


Blown to Art

by BarPurple



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bad Jokes, F/M, Gold's Cadillac, Non magic AU, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-06 14:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: He’d lost a lot of his mobility when his ankle was crushed, but hearing that the Caddy was dead was like losing a limb.





	1. Chapter 1

Gold loved his car.

The Cadillac Brougham d'Elegance had been the first car he had felt safe in since his accident. The car he’d crashed in had been a tiny beat-up Ford that had crumpled like tin foil, so the bulk of the Cadillac was reassuring; and it was an automatic which took the strain off his knackered ankle. He never felt he was exaggerating when he said that the Caddy had saved his life, without it he would have retreated from the world to the point of becoming a hermit, but with a car, that car, he felt safe and much of his confidence returned.

There had been a fair bit of confusion when six-year-old Neal had included the Caddy on his family tree project. The Caddy was only two years older than Neal and the running family joke was that Neal was the youngest child, because the car was clearly his Pops’ first born. Neal’s teacher had taken it as the joke it was and led the class to talk about the personification of possessions and won Gold’s respect because they didn’t dumb it down for the First Graders.

The problem was that Neal was now twenty-five and had aged much better than his Caddy pseudo-sibling. Sure, Neal had a few grey hairs, (thanks for the genes, Pops), and a twinge in his knee, (evading arrest less said the better), but he was on the whole hearty and hail.

The Caddy wasn’t.

The gradual decline began, as most do, with seemingly innocuous incidents. A fan belt wore out faster than usual. The brakes needed replacing, followed quickly by the spark plugs. Oil was being guzzled like a sailor gets through rum on shore leave. After the Caddy had been in the garage seven times in as many months the mechanic suggested that maybe Gold should start looking for a new car. Gold’s response had included many of the colourful colloquial terms from his Glasgow youth.

Oh, how he wished he had listened.

The drive from Castle Rock to Storybrooke was short and simple. Gold had taken this route countless times, it was a Sunday afternoon type of drive, but today it was a battle. The Caddy was stuttering and grinding through gear changes, and the normal power just wasn’t there. Gold was on the outskirts of Storybrooke when black smoke erupted from under the hood and the engine quit.

How he pulled to the side of the road safely he would never know. It took an age for his heartbeat to settle and his breathing to get back to normal. The white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel lasted longer. The images of his car crash faded away and he was able to get out of the car and call the recovery service.

Gus answered the phone and assured Gold that he would have someone there ASAP. He also took the time to make sure Gold was safe; staying on the phone as Gold dug the warning triangle sign thingy out of the trunk and counted the paces off to place it were it would warn other drivers of his stricken car; and making sure Gold was going to wait outside the vehicle.

Minutes ticked by like hours as Gold blew on his hands and paced back and forth to keep warm. It was officially Spring in Maine, but the weather hadn’t got the bloody memo. He started hopefully at every beam of light along the road, but none of them were the tow-truck.

When it arrived in a glare of yellow lights he almost missed it.

Lacey French hopped down from the cab, wearing her coveralls tied at the waist and a grubby tank top that was so thin in made Gold shiver in sympathy.

“Hiya Mr Gold. You look froze, hop up in the cab while I take a looksee what we can do to get Christine purring again.”

The welcome warmth of the cab called to him, but he could stop himself from saying; “I’ve told you before, my Caddy is not called Christine.”

Lacey laughed at him as she had countless times before at the garage; “And I’ve told you, I’ve be up close and personal with that lady’s undercarriage and she let’s me call her Christine.”

Gold huffed and climbed into the cab of the truck. He was aware of Lacey waiting to see if he could manage, but since she didn’t hover, so he let it go. His pride made him wait until she had moved away to his Caddy before he tugged his gloves off with his teeth and warmed his hands on the heater. He snorted at the radio. He knew from experience that Lacey was into classic rock, (he’d found her tapes in the Caddy often over the past few months), and AC DC rocking out ‘Highway to Hell’ was an appropriate sound track for his day.

Lacey had great taste in music, he found himself tapping his foot to American and Brit classics as he waited for her to work her magic on his Caddy. He was lost in Floyd’s ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ when the door opened and Lacey hopped up on the step.

“I’m afraid it’s the Alaskan porn joke.”

“What?”

“Christine has blown a seal and I can’t fix that. Gonna have to tow her home.”

Gold was a robot as he helped Lacey hook the Caddy on to the tow truck. He didn’t speak until they pulled into Gus’ garage.

“You can fix her, right?”

A warm hand covered his; “Gold, Christine is done. Time to think of an honourable burial for her”

He shook off her hand and twisted in the seat to glare at her; “No, no, no that’s … she’s my car … you can … you will fix her!”

Lacey just sighed. A soft little noise and that was the death knell for his beloved Caddy.

She drove him home, but he didn’t remember it.

“Gold. Look, you and me will find you a car, not saying we can replace Chris … your Caddy, but we will find a successor for her, okay?”

Her hand was wrapped around his and he thought nothing of raising it to his lips and kissing her fingers.

“Thank you, Lacey.”

As she watched Gold walk into his daft pink house Lacey had an idea. She drove around the corner and parked up before she pulled her cell out of her pocket.

“Hello Jeff. I’m calling in that favour,”

There was a beat of silence and then a chuckle; “As you wish Lace, remember I will help you bury the bodies, but I’m not killing anyone.”

“Put the spade away. This is of a mechanical nature.”


	2. Chapter 2

Gold had called Neal to tell him about the Caddy’s ultimate demise.

“I love the Caddy Pops, but she was in the garage more than on the road these days. I was getting worried about you driving her to be honest.”

They reminisced about the car that had been a fixed point in their lives. Neal’s first driving lessons. The time when he was seven or eight and had hidden plastic dinosaurs in the ashtrays. The time when Neal was eighteen and Gold had discovered a pair of panties under the front seat.

“I told you that wasn’t what you thought. They fell out of Emma’s bag when she was looking for her wallet!”

“Aye and I never believed a word of it, son. Especially since Henry was born about nine months later.”

Neal laughed at that and changed the subject; “What sort of car are you thinking of getting now?”

“Not given it any thought, there’s no rush. How’s Henry doing with his maths?”

Neal was happy to tell his Pops of Henry’s improvement in maths, but he was worried.

Emma frown at him as he wandered into the kitchen; “What’s the matter?”

“Pops has had to scrap the Caddy.”

She slipped her phone out of her back pocket; “So, we’re hitting Auto Trader for him, right?”

Neal wrapped an arm around her waist. Emma was always practical, and she was right, they would have to find a new car for Pops because he wouldn’t have the heart to do it for himself.

-x-x-x-

 

It took Gold a moment to place the ringing sound. His own bloody doorbell; Neal had fitted a new one a few weeks back and somehow kept changing the tune every time he stopped by. Gold had no idea how he was doing it, but the fact that Regina had been forced to knock after he failed to answer after four rings, and had chipped a nail in the process made the mild annoyance worth it.

It wasn’t a huffy Madam Mayor on his doorstep this morning. It was a mechanic in a brightly coloured scarf.

“Hi ya Gold. Gonna invite me in? It’s brass monkeys out here.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously; “I don’t recall us having an appointment Miss French.”

She stomped her feet and tucked her hands into her armpits; “We didn’t, but y’know manners and all would suggest you invite me in.”

He felt the shades of his aunties pointing out that she was right, and he’d been raised better than to leave a guest on the doorstep. He was half expecting to feel a bony finger jab him in the ribs, his aunts favourite way of chastising him. All these years later he still missed that playful poke and tutting sound.

With more flourish than necessary he stepped back and waved his arm to welcome his unexpected guest inside. Lacey hopped across the doorstep and sighed happily as she unwound her scarf. She sniffed the air and followed her nose towards the kitchen. Gold closed the front door and followed along after her.

He found her helping herself to a cup from the coffee pot.

“Manners Miss French?”

She wrapped her hands around the cup and shrugged; “They are frozen since you made me wait so long out there.”

He found his lips twisting into a smirk at her cheek.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this invasion?”

“Was worried about you. Your shop’s not been open for almost a week.”

He distracted himself by pouring a fresh cup of coffee. The morning after Lacey had dropped him home he’d foolishly hoped that the Caddy would be on the drive, just as it had been for the past twenty odd years. The sight of the bare drive and the knowledge that his Caddy would never sit there again had depressed him so much he’d turned around and gone back to bed. He’d not felt this bad since his car crash. He forced himself out of bed the next day but couldn’t face the idea of leaving the house. It hadn’t gotten any easier over the past week.

Lacey was waiting for an answer, so he just gave a half-hearted shrug and said; “Perks of being my own boss, I can have a day oy two off if I want.”

She took a sip of coffee and hummed at him.

“What?”

“You just happened to fancy a week off right after your Caddy gave up the ghost?”

“She was just a car.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. Nobody talked to him like this, apart from Neal, but he was his son and had more leeway than most folks. For some reason he couldn’t muster up a sneer and a snide remark for Lacey. His eye almost fell out of his head as she moved closer and covered one of his hands with her own.

“The Caddy was part of your life forever. You can mourn her, but you can’t shut yourself away. It’s not healthy.”

He stared at their joined hands. He wasn’t used to receiving comforting touches from anyone who wasn’t family. Her touch was pleasant and made it easier for him to face the fact that he was well on his way to becoming a shut-in.

“Suppose you’re going to tell me I need to look for a new car. Neal’s been sending links to Auto Trader all week.”

She gave his hand a little squeeze; “You’re gonna have to buy a new car at some point, and sooner would be better. I could come with you and look at some if you want. Y’know kick the tires and hiss through my teeth in a professional capacity.”

She grinned at him and he found himself chuckling. He’d had to buy the Caddy on his own and he’d been terrified. At that point he was still limping around on crutches after the accident, so physically he was in better shape this time, and the idea of having Lacey with him soothed the mental stress a heck of a lot.

Before he could take her up on her generous offer the doorbell rang again. Lacey bounced on her heels; “Don’t worry I know who that is. Come on!”

She used her grip on his hand to drag him along in her wake towards the front door. Through the panes of stained glass, he could see the outline of a large truck parked on the street in front of his house. Before Lacey could open the door, he pulled on her hand.

“What is this? I’m not ready to look at new cars.”

Lacey squeezed his hand again; “It’s okay. I would never spring something that big on you. This is a surprise, a memorial, for the Caddy.”

He had no idea what to make of that, but he nodded slowly and let her open the door.

His driveway was in chaos led by Jefferson Madden, Storybrooke’s own eccentric artist. Amidst the bodies of a moving crew Gold could make out what looked like a sofa with some very familiar leather seats. His hand tightened on Lacey’s. His mouth was suddenly to dry to ask what the hell was happening.

Madden finally finished whatever required him to be barking orders at the crew. They moved back, and Gold took his first look at the cause of this fuss. He would have stumbled down the steps if Lacey hadn’t been there to hold him steady. Madden had laid out two loveseats and a table, all made from parts of the Caddy.

Gold blinked as he moved closer. Under the glass topped table was the Caddy’s engine, cleaned and polished to a shine it hadn’t had since he’d first bought her. As he looked he realised that this wasn’t the whole engine, just the top bit that he had seen each time he raised the hood. He cocked his head to one side and saw that the table was closer to a chest with the Caddy’s doors cut down to provide the box sides.

“They open with the handles, which now I’ve said it out loud is rather obvious.”

Madden was turning his top hat nervously between his hands, clearly waiting for Gold’s approval, but Gold was still too stunned to say anything. He gave a vague nod and moved around to look at the loveseats that had been created from the Caddy’s seats. They were perfect. He could tell which had been the front seats because the rubbed spot where his cane had rested as he drove was still there.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Lacey shifted on the balls of her feet, she looked as anxious as Madden.

“It didn’t feel right to send her for scrap, and this way she’s still with you in a way.”

Madden cut to the heart of the matter; “Do you like it?”

Gold schooled his face into the hard mask of landlord and stalked across the drive to stand in front of Lacey. She tilted her chin up and stare at him. The look of defiance in her eyes made it impossible for him to keep a straight face. His mask cracked as a huge grin bloomed on his face.

“I love it. It’s amazing.”

Lacey whooped with joy and threw her arms around his neck. Gold’s balance was further compromised as Madden joined the impromptu hug.

“Wonderful! Wonderful. And some of my best work, if I do say so myself.”

Gold wasn’t listening in the slightest as Madden bounced away to explain about the techniques he’d used. He was far to busy enjoying the feel of Lacey pressed against him in a tight hug. The sadness he felt when she eased away from him was over shadowed by her bright smile.

“So, where you gonna put your new sofas?”

He ducked his head a little and shyly asked; “Maybe you could help me decide?”

 

Just over a year later a new Cadillac sat in the drive of the pink house. It wasn’t the only change to have happened in the past year.

Gold snapped a picture of young Henry sitting on what had been the back seats of the Caddy carefully holding baby Hope. Lacey had to fight back a giggle as she whispered in Gold’s ear; “Fitting place for their first photo together since they were both conceived on those seats.”

Gold kissed the giggle from her lips; “Let’s not mention that, I think Neal’s still in shock about finally being a big brother.”


End file.
